The official thread where everyone tries to catch up to Joe, and Windy keeps track of who posts on the even K's

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Joe’s Van for the road trip.

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When I was a teenager in Hawaii in the late 60’s - early 70’s, I used to see a bumper sticker on the back of Chevy vans that said “Don’t laugh; your daughter might be in here!”
 
When I was a teenager in Hawaii in the late 60’s - early 70’s, I used to see a bumper sticker on the back of Chevy vans that said “Don’t laugh; your daughter might be in here!”

One of my neighbors in the early 70’s had a shaggin wagon with shag carpet on the floor, sides and ceiling.
 
Military brat?
Yep. My dad was chief of surgery at Tripler Army Medical Center 1968-1971. If you were injured in Viet Nam, and you survived the battlefield, you either went to Clark AFB (Philippines) for less critical injuries or Tripler for bad stuff. He was transferred to be CoS at Walter Reed (in DC) in 1971, and I stayed on to graduate high school. (Barry Obama was a fifth-grader at my school when I was a senior. I probably shoved him out of the way in the school bookstore at some point.)

My dad died in 1980, but I still remember his Social Security number (every military dependent knew his/her sponsor’s number) to this day, and I have to look up DH’s SSN every time. 😜
 
Yep. My dad was chief of surgery at Tripler Army Medical Center 1968-1971. If you were injured in Viet Nam, and you survived the battlefield, you either went to Clark AFB (Philippines) for less critical injuries or Tripler for bad stuff. He was transferred to be CoS at Walter Reed (in DC) in 1971, and I stayed on to graduate high school. (Barry Obama was a fifth-grader at my school when I was a senior. I probably shoved him out of the way in the school bookstore at some point.)

My dad died in 1980, but I still remember his Social Security number (every military dependent knew his/her sponsor’s number) to this day, and I have to look up DH’s SSN every time. 😜

That is an awesome story. I can’t imagine the horrid wounds your dad saw.
 
That is an awesome story. I can’t imagine the horrid wounds your dad saw.
It was pretty awful. He had done a fellowship with Michael deBakey and Denton Cooley in Houston in cardiothoracic surgery, so he was the chest guy. My maternal uncle was also an Army doctor (administered several Army hospitals in Thailand), and they both died of service-connected conditions (Agent Orange, etc.)

I remember how weird it was when I had a higher salary than my dad’s in the early 90’s, working for the VA in Health Information Management (“Medical Records”). Yes, adjusted for inflation it was less, but still, to be a top trauma/CT surgeon with flight and jump pay and only make in the high $40 k’s...

It was a great way to grow up though. Always proud to be an Army brat!
 
He's saying there can't be a casino in the USA unless it's on a reservation, and owned by Indians
 
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